With Interest
by YeahImThatGirl
Summary: "God, Ollie, you'd think that these wineries would realize that although, yes, I run a club, I am not, unfortunately, of legal drinking age," Thea muttered. Oliver didn't understand why his mind wandered to Felicity Smoak, a weekend away, and a bottle of wine he had promised her long ago - a bottle he no doubt owed her still...with interest.
1. Chapter 1: Interest Earned

A/N: This story is completely fluffy and hopelessly romantic. Consider it my nice and warmhearted break from "Decent" and "Re-Ascend." Enjoy!

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"God, Ollie, you'd think that these wineries would realize that although, yes, I run a club, I am not, _unfortunately,_ of legal drinking age," Thea muttered as I walked past, glancing over her shoulder at the Table for Two tickets to some winery in Coast City this weekend. My name caught my attention and I laughed, raising an eyebrow as I looked at her.

"Maybe, if you changed all the alcohol information into _your_ name, they wouldn't make that mistake," I smirked at her and she returned the sentiment, the classic Queen smile playing on her lips.

"Or, maybe Roy and I will put them to good use," she teased, waving them in the air. I tried to contain the protective rage that heated my veins; Roy was a decent guy, especially since he'd started working on controlling his rage issues. That _didn't_ mean I wanted him up my sister's too short dresses.

"Or, maybe I'll use them," before Thea could even consider reacting, I had the reservations firmly in my grasp, waltzing out of the club, heading towards the basement—or the Arrow Cave—depending on who you asked.

When I came down the steps, I almost tossed the tickets into the trash can by Felicity's desk. I had no reason to sample wines and I had no one to go enjoy a weekend away with, so there was no point in holding on to them. Then I glanced at the dedicated blonde, hunched over her work station, furiously typing away, glancing between two screens. If anyone deserved a break, it was Felicity Smoak, and I _did_ owe her a bottle of wine…

"Felicity," I asked, and she grunted a noncommittal "hmph" in response. I grabbed the back of her chair and spun her around so that she was forced to face me. He pupils dilated and I pretended not to notice her reaction; we had played this game for so long that we had both gotten quite good at it.

"Oliver," she stated, using an equally serious—and mocking—tone.

"What are you doing this weekend?" I asked, a small smile played on my lips because I knew the answer to that question—both what she would say and what I planned to offer.

"Are you serious?" she asked, rolling her eyes with slight anger. "If I'm not playing 'Executive Assistant' I'm holed up down here," she muttered. She turned back to her computers, ignoring any further discussion.

Without speaking, I set the tickets across her keyboard, waiting for her fingers to need the space. They stilled over the paper, taking in the print and the bright colors.

"What is this?" she asked, cautiously.

"It's a wine tasting this weekend. We are going," I turned, walking away because I didn't want her to think that she could back out; honestly, I didn't want her to.

"_Why_?" she asked, honesty confusion apparent in her tone.

"Because I owed you a bottle of wine,"

"Yeah, a _bottle_ Oliver, not a whole freaking weekend wine tasting!" she stated, her voice rising with each syllable.

"Consider this interest earned," I gave her my most charming smile and she stuttered; I chuckled, truly enjoying myself. "Have your suitcase packed by four; I'll pick you up," I gave her one final Oliver Queen smirk, refusing to argue with her, and turned to walk away. Her chair made a noise, indicating that she had stood, so I slowed, waiting for her to speak.

"And if I refuse to go? If I don't pack?" she challenged, her chin high.

"If you aren't packed," I raised an eyebrow, meeting her challenge. "You get to wear whatever _I_ pack for you…" my voice trailed off with the threat and I turned to leave, but not before I caught the most rewarding sight of Felicity Smoak with her mouth gaping at my retreating figure.

Yes, this was _definitely_ a bad idea.


	2. Chapter 2: Vested Interest

A/N: Wow, thanks for the responses everyone! Loving the support and the reviews! I wasn't really sure where I was wanting the story to go when I started, but with the responses I received, it's not going to be just a one-shot. So here's the second chapter from Felicity's POV. R&R and let me know what you think/what you'd like to see!

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The clock on my wall had never seemed so _unbearably_ loud. I went to chew on my thumbnail, but stopped when my teeth grazed the neon blue paint; people thought I wore the paint to look finished or feminine, when in actuality, I wore it to prevent a nasty bad habit.

Speaking of bad habits, Oliver Queen was supposed to be arriving at my door at any second to pick me up for our weekend date. _Jesus, not date,_ I chastised herself. It was a business trip. A business trip for the club. A wine tasting. Not date-like _at all_.

He had broken the silent pact that had formed between the two of us since the debacle which had been Isabel Rochev and Russia. I would longingly look at him while he walked around nearly naked and sweaty and Oliver would so casually brush me with his fingers, as if reassuring himself that I was, in fact, still there. It had been going quite well, in my opinion—if two adults lying to themselves and each other could be considered 'quite well.'

A knock on the door made me jump up, interrupting my inner turmoil. For one brief moment I considered not answering. Then I considered the fact that Oliver Queen was the Arrow and he busted down doors for a night job—I would have a hard time explaining a broken door to my landlord.

"Oliver," I stated, sounding breathy even to my own ears. I shut my eyes and silently counted backwards from three.

"Felicity," Oliver stated, mocking my tone. He wheeled a pink suitcase out from behind him and I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "Just in case," he smirked.

My heart dropped for one moment before I gathered my wits and pushed my own—probably much more _appropriately_ packed suitcase—towards him. He took it and without a word led me towards the car.

I wasn't sure why, but I had been expecting to find John sitting in the driver's seat. Oliver rarely went anywhere without him and I had always appreciated having him present as a barrier between myself and Oliver. I gulped as Oliver opened my door and then walked around casually to the driver's side.

"Do you even know how to drive?" I muttered, securing my seat belt.

"Of course," Oliver rolled his eyes. "You knew my algebra grade, but you don't know my driving record? Out of the two, the latter seems a bit more important," my eyes flashed to his and the smile on his face made me smile in return.

He pulled away from my apartment and I couldn't help but think that this was a terrible idea. I fiddled with my fingers until Oliver reached over and took my hand in his. I stopped breathing, trying not to concentrate on the way his skin sent a shock through mine.

"Oliver," my voice squeaked. He held my hand a little tighter, his thumb grazing my knuckles. "What are we doing?"

"Honestly?" he asked, sparing a glance in my direction as he merged on the freeway towards Coast City. I nodded, nervous at his response. "I have no idea," he shook his head and when my face betrayed my feelings he continued. "But I do know when a fight is worth it, and fighting against you Felicity Smoak—isn't," he looked at me and I knew that was all of the explanation I was going to get receive.

I knew that if I asked, he would turn around, take me home, and he would act as if nothing had ever happened—as if the invitation had never been extended. I also knew that I would always wonder 'what if' and I hated mysteries.

"And you really think this is a good idea?" I asked. I had spent too much of life questioning my decisions and other's to stop now. He kept his eyes on the road, but I saw the smile reach his eyes and I knew he was sincere.

"My father once told me the idea of a vested interest—the concept that you invested time and energy and resources into an asset presently, knowing it would reap a return later. Well—God, I guess I don't have to explain that you Ms. MIT," he looked at me shyly, but I risked a small smile back him; it was nice to _not_ be the one rambling for once. "He wasn't referring to business, though. It was about the people he lo—cared for," Oliver caught himself, but I still turned away, blushing.

"Oliver, that still doesn't make _this,_" I gestured between the two us with my free hand. "a good idea. We work together, and not just during the day, but at night too. What we're doing for this city—it's too _good_—bigger than both of us—for us to mess up doing, well whatever we're doing," I finally stumbled out some of the thoughts jumbled in my mind.

"It's a good point, but Felicity, look at the bigger point. I can't do what I do during the day, at night—I don't want to do it without you," he looked at me and his steel gray eyes bore into mine until he absolutely had to look back at the road. "We've grown so close—_I've_ grown so close to you over these past few years working together and it's never been enough," he murmured, his lips grazing my knuckles on the hand that he held.

"But _why_?" my mind had always wandered in the dark places of 'why' and being with Oliver Queen was definitely one of those places. It made no sense.

"Like I said Felicity," he muttered against my knuckles. "Vested interest…" his voice trailed off, signaling the end of the conversation as we sped towards a weekend away in Coast City.


End file.
